A Charged Touch
by missy42
Summary: Everyone’s always on Rogue about how her emotional/psychiatric/self-esteem/whatever inabilities are really what has been keeping her from being able to Touch other people without her powers kicking in, but what if she's not entirely to blame?


Disclaimer: Not mine.  No, really, Remy, Rogue, the whole X-Men gang, and pretty much all recognizable character in general, they're all Marvel's, and I really have no permission to write about them, but when did that stop anyone?  Oh, except for Richard, the "One woman," and the "faceless bastards."  They're figments of my darker imagination.  A certain Val is mentioned as a friend of Remy's.  In the context of this fic, she is, indeed, a character I've placed in the Marvel Universe - a never-before-mentioned acquaintance of Remy's - but is, of course, named after the X-Men FanFiction Goddess, Valerie Jones, who first put to paper (or should it be called e-paper?) Remy's spatial awareness powers.  I suppose she belongs to herself, or arguably her family, and no, I don't have her permission any more than I have Marvel's.  Maybe I should email her or something, though I doubt she'd have many qualms about being portrayed as a friend of Gambit's.  At least I thought it was an appropriate reference.  In any case, please don't sue; I can't afford it.

Author's Notes:  Okay, so I was thinking.  Everyone's always on Rogue, about how her emotional/psychiatric/self-esteem/whatever inabilities are really what has been keeping her from being able to Touch other people without her powers kicking in.  In other words, her inability to control her powers is entirely her fault, whether intentionally or subconsciously.  So I started wondering if maybe it's not all her fault, that there was maybe something or someone else at work, here, particularly the one person she'd most like to Touch.  So I started thinking about Gambit's history, his powers, and things just started coming together. I'm not quite satisfied with it, though.  It's kind of a work in progress, so I need your help on how to make it clearer, longer (possibly), and better in general.  I'm also, not too sure about the title.  I thought it was fitting when I came up with it, but sometimes it just feels awkward.  Anything you all can come up with would be greatly appreciated.  R for adult situations and some language.  Please review.  Pretty please?  With sugah and cheese?  And don't forget the cherry on top!  Enjoy!

"missy42"

A Charged Touch

It all started when he was about six, maybe younger.  He hated the work, and forced himself to become an expert at other means of obtaining money, but sometimes, picking pockets just didn't cut it.  So, he used what God gave him (if there was a God) when he had to.  The work was plentiful enough, but he always insisted on keeping the other kids in his little gang away from this kind of money.  The "clients" were almost always men; in fact, the boy only came by one woman who was into that kind of thing.  They were some of the biggest scum the Earth had to offer and they sickened him, especially the one he met that wanted his own child to participate.  For the most part, the young orphan tried to grab their money and run before having to really do anything.  It didn't always work.

The boy's red-on-black eyes became an interesting commodity.  Most people were afraid of them, and therefore afraid of him.  He had become used to being called a devil-child, or some such insult, and he had long since learned to not take offense.  But among those on the outskirts of society in their more heinous recreational activities, the boy found a sick bastard who delighted in his unique gaze.

Richard was his name (go figure), the sick, rich son of a bitch.  His said the boy's red on black eyes turned him on.  A successful businessman, he hailed from St. Louis and had moved down to the Big Easy when his company had expanded.  He wasted no time getting into the underground scene, something he certainly had dabbled in back home.  And Remy was his favorite.  His "beloved pet" among his "little street urchins," as Richard called the boys he hired.  Remy hated the work with a passion but the pay from one session with Richard would keep him and his gang fed and warm for weeks.

It hurt.  It always hurt.  He had heard Richard calling it making love.  But Remy knew it wasn't love.  Course, he didn't know what love **was at that point, but from the stories he'd heard, he would know when he found it - he'd just ****know - and what he got from Richard wasn't it.  And his powers confirmed it.**

It was an awareness more than anything else. A powerful awareness of energies.  Awareness of where they were and how they worked.  It was nothing he could really put into words; it was instinct... intuition.  He just knew.  Even the physics he had taken hadn't been able to explain it the way he understood it.  He didn't really have charm powers or empathy, per say, nor the "kinesthetic sense" his old friend Val hypothesized about.  In effect, he suppose that it came out to these things, but a more accurate description would be that with his special awareness of energies, he found he could also manipulate them.  With this, he was able to stop bullets, come out of collapsed building unharmed, or steal right under the nose of an External without being noticed.  And of course, it allowed him tap into the kinetic energy of any object, turning the most harmless looking items into dangerous explosives.

The empathic aspect of his powers came at an early age, going back as far as his memories on the streets had.  It was very weak, and he had no ability whatsoever back then to manipulate this "awareness" of other people's emotion that might suggest that he had charm powers.  But he could sense them, no doubt about that.  He never told anyone about it.  The less others knew about you in his world, the better.  No one could be trusted completely.  Besides, most of the people he came across had a dark energy - a sign of bad emotions - about them, one he didn't like and that he wished he could get away from.  Somehow, he knew that these bad emotions were contagious, and he didn't know how long he could stay around it before "catching" it himself.  In the mean time, he would resist it for as long as he could.

These dark emotions seemed to seep out of Richard, driped out of every pore.  Mostly, it made Remy want to retch, but a part of him couldn't help but wonder who had made Richard into the sickening person he had become.  He felt a sliver of sympathy for Richard when this thought occurred to him, but it wasn't enough for him to not hate the man; hate how he was taking advantage of a homeless boy; hate how he himself was dependant on Richard's vileness; hate how the Touch hurt.

So, Touch never became something he had particularly liked.  It was useful, and necessary, at times, but never very enjoyable.  He never **let himself enjoy it.  It always reminded him of Richard, and the other faceless bastards that had benefited from his misery.  He could stand it with women, at least.  In his early experience with people, women had always been the ones to be kind to him.  Even that One woman had at least been gentler than the males, even if she did have the same despicable purposes.  For them, he could even feign pleasure, especially if it suited his purposes.**

And once he was off the streets, sex always had a purpose.  It had could never be just about the sex, or just about the emotions for him; he always had to have something to gain from it.  He reasoned though, that it was an exchange, that he was giving these girls what they wanted, and he got what he wanted in return.  Indeed, he scarcely had any need to use his charm powers in these "exchanges," he cold just go on his incredibly good looks, and various forms of body language to turn them on.  But it was all an act he never denied that to himself.  He could never really give himself to them completely, no matter how much he might have cared about these women.

So, there was a reason he had fallen in love with her - a reason that the one woman he could be willing to give himself to completely - was the one woman he couldn't Touch; the one woman who was hurt just as much by Touch as he was.  It was a reason he didn't think anyone else would understand, or appreciate.  His reasons were selfish ones, and went as far back as he could remember; included things he wanted to forget and events he certainly didn't want anyone else to know about.

It had been easy manipulating her, too.  (Yet another one of his dark secrets that he filed along with all the other dark secrets he kept from even those closest to him.)  Oh, she had been willing - scared, but willing - ready and able, long ago.  But he wasn't, and if he let her know that, he'd have to explain why, and that was something he wasn't willing to do.  All he had to do to stop her was make her fears greater than her desire, easily accomplished, with his abilities and the strength of her fears.  Simple.  Subtle.  Effective.  Easy.  He hated doing it, because he **was deceiving her, taking advantage of her lack of self-esteem.  In many ways, it was the same thing that had been done to him so many years ago, but in other ways, he was protecting her.**

He knew he was denying her the choice, but, he loved her, he knew that.  He just knew.  And she loved him, he knew that.  He just knew.  This way, both of them were bound to be faithful to each other.  He knew that if she had the control she so desired, she would become impatient with his inability and go off somewhere else for Touch.  This way neither of them would go outside their relationship - such as it was - and do something that would hurt them both in the end.  He was saving them both the pain and confusion of having to deal with one another's possible infidelity.

More importantly, though, he didn't want his Touches with her to be painful.  He didn't want his Touches with her to be the bartering he had done with the other women.  He wanted it to be about the emotions with her, about enjoyment, and pleasure.  About making love, the way it's supposed to be.

But he wasn't ready for that.  Not yet.  For now, Touch hurt, and he didn't want to share that pain with her.  But Someday, he would be.  He just hoped that when that day came, Remy would have the power to reverse his manipulations on Rogue.

Fin.

****

After writing this, I realize that Remy kinda comes across as a manipulating, deceptive, selfish ass-hole.  I do really like Gambit, honest I do.  This is just a "what-if" look at his powers in connection to his relationship with Rogue.  I tried my best to rationalize things from Remy's point of view - to make his not seem so loathsome - with bits of the truth of the more shameful side in it - cuz I do think that even he hasn't deceived himself that much.


End file.
